The Release in Dreams
by Snape's Only 1
Summary: WARNING: MATURE CONTENT INSIDE! You have been warned... Nasuada receives an important gift from an unexpected source. Please r&r.


The Release in Dreams

A/N Leave it to my warped and twisted brain to create something like this. This is a story that is somewhat of a crossover between Nasuada and Severus Snape from the Harry Potter series. However, it is not the main focus of the fic.

She was there yet again, in that strange and dark dungeon. Why she always ended up here of late was a complete mystery. Hard as she might try, she was still unable to unravel it. She hoped that tonight she may find the answer she sought.

"You've come again," called the soft voice from a shadowy corner. He emerged, black robes billowing behind him as he strode quickly toward her.

"Yes, I had to," she replied somewhat playful and somewhat submissive.

"I am pleased," he stated bluntly. "I assume you would like to…"

"Y-yes, if that is alright with you," she responded apprehensively.

"But of course. Let me know what you are able to take today."

He then closed the distance between them and embraced her tightly. His thin lips met her full ones in a gentle but passionate kiss. He could taste her already, and he knew that he needed her now. His kisses grew rougher, more vigorous as he felt her arms encircle his neck and shoulders. She pulled him even further into her, nearly clawing at his back in her haste. He drew back somewhat and looked into her almond-shaped brown eyes. "Lay on the desk when I am finished," he commanded.

He turned her around and began to undo the intricate fastenings of her gown, letting it finally slide mercilessly to the floor. He then tore shamelessly at her undergarments, casting them aside roughly. When her clothing was fully removed, she did as she had been ordered and settled onto the cold, hard desk.

"Now, if you would like to lie on a bed this time, you will do exactly as I say. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," she answered meekly, remembering how painful it had been to have him force himself on her while being on top of the desk.

"Good. Do not move."

He went to a cupboard and pulled out leather restraints. He then proceeded to tie her wrists together above her head and tie each of her ankles to a leg of the desk. When he was sure that she could not break free, he began to remove his own clothing.

"Tell me," he said coldly, "Why do you allow me to do this to you? I was under the impression that you were supposed to be some sort of leader. Now, why would a leader allow herself to be tied to a desk and taken like a common whore?"

She knew what he wanted to hear and was all too glad to comply. "Because I like it," she said, lust clearly evident in her hoarse voice. And it was true. She loved being powerless for once, loved the utter lack of responsibility and expectation that was constantly being forced upon her. When she looked deeply into herself, she knew that her core had no desire to lead; she was by no means a follower, but to lead was to give up one's freedom. In this situation she was handing her freedom over as well, yet it was so different. She knew he would see that her needs were met, that he would never force her to make a decision, and that he respected her enough to allow her to say "no" that is, if she chose to. Her daily task was to make sure that the needs of others were met, that the needs of an entire empire would be met in the end. She had grudgingly chosen to take up the position, but who else could have done it properly? Who else would not become hungry for power in the end and seek to serve only his or her self-interests? She only trusted herself when she took the position. She now regretted that decision immensely, knowing that Eragon certainly could have been trusted to do her work. But, she could do nothing about this now. She longed to have someone take care of her once again and make all of the decisions. He was that person.

"You like it," he mocked, "Of course you like it, because I tell you that you must like it."

A soft moan escaped her lips as he twisted her will to fit his own. She needed this, needed it more than anything. Well, almost more than anything.

"A moan? Do you truly like bending to my will?"

"Yes, sir," she said breathlessly.

"Tonight, you will address me as Master," he ordered.

"Yes, I truly like it Master."

"Then you are mine. You are my possession." He then drew his wand and transfigured the desk into a bed, complete with two pillows and a blanket that rested at the foot of the bed. He climbed on top of her and rested his hardening penis on her upper thigh. He looked deep into her brown eyes, seeing the pain that he expected to see. He wanted nothing more than to take that pain away from her, to take it away from himself.

He put his face near hers, feeling her breath against his sallow skin. Her sable skin was something foreign to him in a way; he had not slept with a dark woman until his encounters with her, yet there was something beautifully forbidding about her appearance that haunted him during these encounters; he simply could not get enough. His greasy hair brushed her cheeks as he moved his mouth downward to her collarbone, biting the soft skin at her neck. She moaned louder and tried to grab his hair, only to remember that her wrists were bound. He smirked.

"And what do you think you are doing?" he spat coldly at her.

"I was trying to put my fingers in your hair, Master," she replied lustily yet with a hint of foreboding. She knew what was coming.

'I never gave you permission to do that." He sat up, took his right hand, and slapped her upper thigh where his penis had been resting, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to cause her to be in agony. She gave an involuntary moan and shudder. He lifted his hand again and slapped the exact same spot a bit harder.

"What kind of a woman likes to be struck? Certainly a leader, a Lady, would not stand for this. Maybe you are not a Lady at all. Tell me then, are you a Lady" He knew how much she loved this line of questioning. He wanted to give her true freedom from her title and temporary freedom from her duties.

"No Master, I am not a Lady," she said, her voice rising in pitch with increasing lust.

"What are you then?"

"I am your possession, nothing more than a common woman who is only here to please you," she moaned breathlessly, nearly panting by this point with the release of her emotions and anxieties.

"That's right,' he flung at her, "You are mine. Now, do my bidding, woman." With that, he lowered himself to her again and pulled her legs apart for the tying of her ankles did not fully do the job. Her roughly thrust his penis into her now wet vagina, but still, not rough enough to hurt her; he never wanted to hurt her, for he did possess some affection for her. He felt her tighten around him. The process of true release had begun.

As he started to slide up and down inside of her, he reached up and untied her wrists. He then drew his wand again and released the leather thongs around her ankles.

She threw her arms around his neck and brought her legs up around his in order to tighten herself even further. She could feel him thrusting fast into her, hitting her cervix with every single thrust and stretching her open with each rotation of his pelvis. She could feel her own wetness along with her clitoral throbbing. "Please Master, touch it," she begged, not able to take the absence of clitoral stimulation any longer.

He complied without comment, knowing that the lack of clitoral stimulation was hurting her at this point. His finger found the engorged lump and began to stroke, slow at first but faster and harder when her pelvic movements indicated that she wanted and needed it. His thrusting became faster as well. He felt her squeezing him tightly, almost painfully. The hot, wet liquid inside of her added to his growing ecstasy. He needed her so much. With his other hand, he began massaging her firm breasts, slightly squeezing the erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them outward to their fullest extent and causing her to moan loudly with pleasure. This caused his penis to throb in slight, exquisite pain. He brought his mouth to hers and began to bite her lips. He then stuck his tongue into her mouth, feeling it meet hers eagerly as the passion swelled for both of them.

She used her left hand to run her fingernails down his back with intense pleasure. She loved having her breasts fondled in this way; she needed it, and wasn't this all about their needs? She knew what he needed as well. She continued scratching and, with her other hand, she firmly grabbed his upper arm and squeezed. She could tell that true bliss was only moments away for both of them. She felt him shudder violently on top of her and inside of her and heard him moan longingly. His thrusts became so vigorous that she almost asked him to stop due to the pain, but she knew she could take it, just another few moments.

He was close to orgasm now. He could feel his penis begging for release inside of her tight and swollen vagina. Oh how he needed this, wanted this, longed for this, loved this. He shuddered again and moaned loudly with pure lust and pleasure as he ejaculated inside of her. He stayed inside as his body shuddered from the effort, knowing that she loved the way this felt to her and wanting to give her as much pleasure that he could. When his shudders had subsided, he pulled out slowly, rubbing his penis against her vaginal walls so that she could savor the feeling as much as possible. The finger stroking her clitoris was nearly numb at this point due to the intense pressure and vigorous motion he was using. The hand massaging her breast was in a bit of a better state. He bent down and began to bite her nipples, hard.

She loved the feeling of his mouth in that spot, needed it, longed for it, released herself to it. She could feel him dominating her clitoris with his hand and finger and the pleasure was so great that she started moaning uncontrollably. She wanted to stop herself from doing it, but she also wanted true and full release. Letting go completely, she yelled, "Eragon!" She immediately felt her face flush, knowing she had gone too far.

He saw the look on her face, knew that she had screamed her true love's name, and wanted her to know that it was ok. This was not about love; it was about release for both of them. He lifted his face to hers, brought his cheek next to hers gently, and said, "It's ok, I understand. I want you to have him," in such a soft tone that she knew he was sincere. He then caressed her cheek just as gently as he had spoken to her, trying to convey the emotion of friendship and understanding that he was unable to put into words.

She knew he meant it, and this brought her to an entirely new level of ecstasy. He was giving her the greatest gift that anyone had ever given her: ultimate release through the ability to drop all pretenses and completely express her innermost desires. She screamed Eragon's name again and again, not caring for the first time if anyone heard, not caring what the man giving her this pleasure thought, not caring about finally accepting her own true feelings. Her body writhed and convulsed again and again as she felt warmth rush over her in intensely large waves. Never had she reached a state like this. This was what it meant to be almost truly happy. As she relaxed back down to the matress, her body covered in sweat, she thought that perhaps one day, she would reach the state beyond this and be completely content with her life when she felt this same pleasure from the man she truly wanted it from.

"W-what is your name?" she asked breathlessly, exhilaration coursing through her now exhausted body.

"My name is Severus," he stated with a smirk, "And yours?"

"Nasuada,' she replied smiling up at him. "Will I see you again?"

"I believe so," he mused, "After all, we both need this cathartic occurrence so that we may continue on with our normal lives without becoming, well, over emotional."

"I will look forward to it," Nasuada said after kissing him slowly. "Before I go, could you please…hold me?" she asked nervously. Severus's black eyes softened somewhat. He drew her close to him, both on their right sides. He placed his left arm around her waist with his hand touching the bed and brought their bodies tightly together. He felt her lean into him and closed his eyes. He imagined that it was his true love. How he had longed to hold his Lily like this, to caress her face and hair, to take her tenderly and make love to her. He assumed that Nasuada knew that he loved someone else, but he did not care. He knew that she harbored affection for another man as well, yet they seemed to have come to a kind of unspoken understanding that they could simply soothe one another. She could be his temporary Lily, and he could be her temporary…well, it did not matter. They could provide each other's comfort; they could keep each other sane and loved.

She could feel him breathing against her back, and leaned into him more in order to feel the closeness she had been desperate for of late. No, he was not Eragon, not by a long shot, but he possessed a certain nurturing quality that she knew he had as well. Until this night, she had been too terrified to ask her Master to hold her in his arms, but something had stirred within her tonight; she could not take the loneliness any longer. She closed her eyes and imagined that the arm holding her tightly was Eragon's. She knew that Severus too loved another, and she treasured the words of their private secrets that went unspoken. She knew that she could tell him of her love for Eragon and that he could tell her of his love for the mysterious woman; however, she knew that neither of them would ever breach the subject. Thinking of this, she felt what little tension was left in her muscles relax and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

She found herself lying in bed once more, her body drenched with sweat. She reached for him, only to realize that he was absent yet again. It had been a dream, nothing more, but perhaps it was something more. Perhaps it was everything that she needed for the present time. As long as she could go back to him in her dreams, the daily tasks seemed less stressful, almost doable in fact. Before rising she contemplated the day's events. She may have to bathe due to the sweat; hopefully Farica would let her prepare the water, cloth, and soap herself. She then would meet with the council of elders and discuss the new financial crisis that had hit the Varden. That would take roughly two or three hours. She then would need to visit the ill and dying to spread morale among her subjects and possibly bring them a bit of cheer. And of course, there was her evening meeting with Eragon. She hoped she could keep herself composed enough for that. If he only knew her true feelings…

She stood up then and stretched. She could feel the remnants of her blissful dream between her legs. Yes…she would certainly need a bath.


End file.
